Upon A Midnight Dreary
by seriousish
Summary: Steph is Robin now. Tim just has to get used to it. TimxSteph


Tim was alone, in a strictly physical sense. But, he conceded mentally, figuratively as well. Most of his friends were Robin's friends and he wasn't Robin anymore. Steph was. Damn Bruce for tempering his happiness for her with all these… feelings. Was this how Dick felt when he had been replaced? Tim would have to ask him, on the off chance that he got to see the man he once called brother.

On the plus side, his father was giving him a little privacy now. He'd been under the hairy eyeball for so long that Jack Drake was satisfied he wasn't sneaking out at night. Of course he wasn't. Where did he have to sneak to? Both dad and Dana had been called away on business, which in hindsight Tim should've found suspicious. He didn't. Not until the TV show he was watching clicked off to reveal a reflection in the dead screen.

"Steph," he said, turning to look at her.

"Robin," she corrected. "When I'm in the mask."

Despite all the humanizing touches to the Robin costume, all he could see was the gleaming armor and mirrored lenses which seemed so much less expressive than the white ovals of the Spoiler's mask… like a dead fish's eyes, grayed over.

He dropped the remote and almost turned on the light before picking up her subtle disapproval. He left it off and instead, out of a perverse desire to take away from her mystique, fetched them two juiceboxes and tossed one to her. She calmly stabbed her straw into it, while he had some trouble with his. Finally, he conceded that he wasn't thirsty and set it down.

"Do you need help with something?"

"No, I'm doing fine as Robin. Nightwing's helping me out."

Tim wanted to ask if Batman was being a good mentor, but he refrained. There'd been times during his training when he could've sworn that Bruce didn't give a damn about him.

"I missed you," Steph said. Her voice was lovelorn so fast that Tim's head could've spun.

He padded closer to her, like he was approaching a skittish animal that might bolt at the first sign of aggression. "I'm in the book." He made a telephone gesture.

"Seemed awkward. It was just until I thought about it that I realized you set up all our dates. Even when I surprised you as Robin, it was only cuz you were out there in the first place. I had to go looking for you. We had to…" she clasped her hands together. "Meet halfway."

Her mouth wasn't the thin line Robin had always seen when he'd looked in the mirror, but full lips gilded in lipstick. Humanizing. Batman's light in the darkness. She would do a good job of it.

"Joker's on the loose," she continued. "Batman's following up leads, and he's got the others backing him up. But he says he doesn't want me out tonight."

"You're smart to listen to him. There's dangerous and then there's Joker."

"I know. I know I'm not ready. But…" She looked at him, cocking her head as she noticed as if for the first time that he was wearing nothing more than a Gotham Knights T-shirt and boxer shorts. "Sit down, I wanna explain something."

He sat on the armrest of the couch. Steph stalked through the room, circling it.

"I like Cass. I like her a lot. She's my friend and all, but she's basically _the Mission_ in human form. Doesn't have time for boys, barely has time for friends… me and Miss Gordon…"

Tim grinned at Steph's officious name for Barbara. He killed it before Steph noticed.

"Me and _Barbara_, we try to get some sun in her life. But, uh… but I don't wanna wind up like that. Just grim and brutal, 24/7. I wanna have a life." She stopped walking and craned her neck to face him. "With you."

Tim's reflection in her eye-lenses was tentative and indistinct. "Not sure dad would approve…"

"Tim? You honestly think I care what fathers think?"

She stopped closer to him.

"Okay, yeah, he can be an asshole, but I don't want him to disapprove of me just as he's starting to like me again."

"Listen to yourself, Tim. You shouldn't have to prove yourself to him. I mean, you've _saved_ the _world_."

Tim grinned. "You're gonna make me blush."

"You're cute when you blush."

She put a hand to his cheek. The glove was smoother than dolphin skin. It muted her body heat.

"Did I mention I'm horny?" she said, point-blank.

"You're always horny."

Her hand trailed down to his chest, teasingly pinching his nipple through the shirt.

"Cut it out," he said, fitfully.

"Did we break up?" She advanced on him, cornering him in his bedroom. "Because I don't recall breaking up. Things just got switched around on us a bit. If Robin can have a girlfriend, can't Robin have a boyfriend?" Steph smiled wickedly.

His shirt felt flimsy, pinched between Steph's fingers as she moved her hand lower. She could probably rend it without a second thought. But she didn't. She rubbed his groin with the palm and heel of her hand, faintly tickling her fingernails over the underside of his testicles. She waited until he whimpered before she brought her hand up and then down under the waistband of his boxers to bring his cock out. His face did nothing more than twitch when she stroked it with languid force.

"We should leave the mask on," she suggested, and his cock jumped in her hand.

"Condom," he said, and was surprised with how high-pitched his voice was.

Steph nodded knowingly and took one out of a small compartment on her utility belt. She handed it to Tim, who ripped it open eagerly. He did the funny little dance to get it on and instantly her glove was back around his cock. Tim wondered idly how many layers of rubber there were around his penis at the moment. Depended on the glove, he guessed.

Tim hooked his fingers into her belt, thumbs pressed against the Kevlar that covered the flat expanse of her belly; she smiled lasciviously when he found and undid the catch. The utility belt clumped to the ground between them. It was her that found the part in the suit, and lowered the pants to just below her pelvis. Her panties were green and she tugged them aside with the hand that wasn't jerking him off. Under it, her pussy was neatly shaven and already smelled ready. Tim's nostrils flared at the scent and Steph didn't giggled, instead she bit down her laugh. She always got giggly during sex. Steph being solemn during sex was kinda like the mirrors over her clear blue eyes… they just didn't fit.

She gave his cock a turgid pull, dragging her glove over it from root to head. He groaned when she circled two fingers around his cockhead and made a rubbing motion. The glove made it feel strange and alien, but he couldn't help but respond. They still hadn't kissed yet. Steph loved kissing. Robin… he wasn't too sure about.

The next step in the complicated dance was Tim putting a hand under her cape, at the small of her back just above where the utility belt should circle. He pulled her against him and she guided him inside her, her face lighting up with the most peculiar expression. She was shorter than him, and ended up with her face against his chest. Despite the chill of her exterior, her sex was warm and welcoming. She squeezed him there and giggled when he tensed. Nice to know some things never changed.

Tim was sweating, through his shirt and over his face. Gently, Steph nudged his boxers down to the ground. Still impaled on him, she waddled him backward, careful not to let her pants slip down anymore. They backed onto the bed and he fell, Steph going "oof!" when they landed. He laughed. She bit his neck. Her cape blanketed them. He bit his hands into the interwoven Nomex and Kevlar of her cape; felt like it was a more advanced model. He ran his hands down her, feeling her body out under the cape. Just below her ass, he came to the lead tips at the bottom of the scalloped cape. Pricked his finger on one of them. Offensive capabilities.

He jerked his hand away and Steph caught it at the wrist. Still giggly but not giggling, she kissed his bloody finger. Then she took it in her mouth and sucked. Tim groaned. She undulated her hips and he _really_ groaned. She grinned around his finger, her teeth slightly reddened and he flipped her onto her back, kissed her hard. She squeaked into his mouth, her hands splayed flat over his shoulder blades as he thrust into her. Once, hard, as if he were deflowering her (although the opposite was a lot closer to the truth), then her hips rose up to meet him and fell like the tide and they were making love, gentle, unrushed.

"Tim," she said, breathless in a way that had nothing to do with physical exertion. "Tim Drake…"

"I'm right here, Steph…"

Her teeth were sharp against his neck. "Call me Robin."

There were two possibilities, both true. Tim came to see them both as Steph's legs wrapped around him, the treads of her boots digging into his flesh where they slipped from his waist. Steph was just as fucked up as the rest of his world, and his world wasn't as fucked up as he'd once thought it was… a long time ago, come to think of it.

"Earn it," he told her. She grinned wildly at the game and he put his hands on her, searching for a space to touch. So much of her was encased in armor, like Sleeping Beauty in her glass coffin. He could see her, but he couldn't feel her. His hand ghosted through the nape of her neck, tickling the stray hairs that had escaped her combat-situation hairdo. He ran his fingers through her hair until he hit the hard metal of her headband.

"Careful, it's a weapon," she warned him with, remarkably enough, a straight face.

Yeah, his world was a little fucked up, but how just how much could it be with Steph in it?

Careful for the edges, he took it off and her hair went wild. It exploded out over the pillow and he rubbed his face in it, not stopping until his lips found the shell of her ear. Their gentle, melding coupling went fierce again as he bit her lip. The hands at his back, human through the thin T-shirt, pulled at him. She caught his lips, kissed him so close she could feel his eyelashes. The cold material of her eye-lenses touched his face at various points. That wasn't her. She was the moist, parted lips that he couldn't escape from, the faded golden flesh that he lapped and nibbled at. Robin was something between them, but not of them.

His hands moved over her again, finding the part in the back of her suit and going under it to feel her rounded ass. She cooed when his fingernails dug into her flesh, the heels of her boots scraping against his skin. They rolled over again, so she was on top. He kept one hand on her ass, squeezing her sweaty flesh, and the other roamed to her shoulder. The padding was thick there for a more imposing outline. Her hands searched over him and eventually found holds. They set up another rhythm, faster, a harder pace. Sweat broke out over Steph's skin, her wild hair, her flushed face, the mask that broke up the clean lines of everything. Tim ignored it. Wasn't like he could see his reflection when he kissed her.

Steph was so sensitive that her nipples chafed against the inside of her armor. Tim was so blunt that he could feel her body heat through the armor separating them. They broke, only for him to strip off his shirt, and they met again. The armor was sharp enough to cut him, but he loved her anyway. Together, they arched, came, went loose. His arms feeling stringy, Tim pulled himself away from her. They had both been sitting up, merging so completely it was hard to tell who was riding who. His T-shirt, which had landed on the edge of the bed, fell all the way off. Fingers slimy, Tim pulled his condom off and dumped it into the trash bin beside his bed. He shook it so that the used thing was hidden in old tissues.

Steph produced a cigarette from somewhere, he didn't think her utility belt, and lit it. They passed it between each other, Tim doing his best not to cough. When it was used up, stubbed out, and thrown after the condom, Tim moved over Steph again. He unlaced her boots and pulled them off, then loosed the straps that kept her stockings connected at the heel. He kissed the arch of her foot. Leggings and trunks followed with Tim again kissing the exposed flesh, but passing over her damp green panties. He laughed, just now getting it.

Then he unlaced her vest and unzipped the tunic under it. There was a thin black bodystocking, long-sleeved, under that. She helped him strip it off. Then came the sports bra. Tim's fingers had long ago become practiced enough at lockpicking to handle those. Her bare arms flexed as she took his face in her hands, caressing him one last time with her gloves. He peeled them off and kissed each knuckle, one by one. Finally, there was nothing left but her mask. He rubbed his hands together until he had generated enough friction to melt the spirit gum holding it on, then he slowly peeled the domino mask away. Underneath, her eyes were as bright and blue as always. He kissed them both closed, then moved down to pull her panties down her long, bare legs. There, he kissed long enough to bring her to a second orgasm.

Watching out for the bruises and scabs revealed by her disrobing, Tim wrapped his arms around her. Her gaze was fixed on the window, outside at the clouds where the Batsignal could flare at any moment. He kissed her bare shoulder.

"Robin," he said, and she turned to look at him. "I feel safe with you out there."

She didn't stop holding him until morning came.


End file.
